Ivy lay curled in her bed, reflecting on the days events. She was a straight A student, and everyone knew it. Ivy dreaded waking up each morning and put it off as long as possible by repeatedly hitting the snooze button on her alarm. She would then pull her dark hair haphazardly into a ponytail and apply a small amount of makeup. Unlike other girls Ivy never wore short skirts and always had on long sleeves.

Ivy went unnoticed by the male population at her school and the females shunned her for being different. Conversations were few and far between and usually consisted of asking for homework help or even more common,jokes about her lack of feminine tendencies. People thought she was a lesbian. She wasn't one, but that didn't mean she had a problem with them.

Math was the hardest class of the day due to the fact that three very ignorant boys would make comments about her sexuality for the amusement of the entire class. The thing that made Ivy really different was that she didn't cry. Ever.No matter how much the things they said hurt, she would not let them see her cry. Her pride was the only thing that they had not taken, and she wasn't going to let them take it now.

When she got home that afternoon her mother had yelled at her over the phone for making a B on her last history test. This was about as much conversation that she ever had with her mother,who constantly worked late.Her stepdad always treated her as though she were stupid causing her to hate being around him, so she took a shower and locked herself in her room to mull over the things that had happened during the day. That is where we find her at the moment.

After thinking over the day she prepares for her nightly ritual. Ivy fishes her towel out of the back of a drawer and removes the razorblade from underneath the hated alarm clock. She takes a deep breathe of apprehension,but her hand never falters as she drags the searing metal across her skin over and over again. The memories flooded out of her like crimson streams.

Her need to get rid of her feelings became more urgent,so her incisions became deeper and quicker. She quickly moved from her arms to her breasts, then down her abdomen to her most private place then all the way down to her lower thigh. Ivy's head started to spin, so she took her towel to stop the bleeding. The memories flooded back to her, and she regretted stopping the bleeding.

Once the blood flow had been subdued, Ivy placed her razorblade back under the clock and hid the bloody towel in the back of a drawer. She lay her head back down on her pillow and drifted off to sleep, dreading the sounding of the alarm clock the next morning.